


Celtic challenge of murder ballads, song 1, part 1

by AzureAngel2



Series: “Down in the willow garden”, a series of Orson Krennic vignettes [1]
Category: Star Wars - All Media Types
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-22
Updated: 2017-01-22
Packaged: 2018-09-19 07:02:18
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,535
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9424499
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AzureAngel2/pseuds/AzureAngel2
Summary: Summary: An Imperial officer marches along a Chandrilan river, a picnic basket in one hand and a blanket rolled up under one of his arms. His former babysitter girl, the secret niece of his Emperor, is with him. He has some murderous thoughts in his mind.Time frame: The story takes place about 2 weeks after the events of RotS (19 BBY).Planet of choice: ChandrilaDisclaimer: SW is owned by George Lucas, Lucas Ltd. and now The Walt Disney Company





	

**Story 1:** _“_ _The river picnic”_

You pass by **willow** trees and many public **garden** s on your way down to Lake Sah’ot. _Oh shavit!_ You did not mean to return to Chandrila. The past is the past and that’s about it.

But with Ina things are always different. Not because she is the Emperor’s secret niece, his only living relative. That does not count for you. The two of you go way back.

When your own mother, some eco freak from Laxrul, was overtaxed with you, Ina volunteered to come over and to babysit you occasionally. And suddenly, you had an audience. Somebody to realize your genius, your potential. Without her you would have been stuck between a hard place and a rock.

Ina helped you to enrol at the Galactic Futures Program on Brentaal, even though you let her down three years earlier. You were sulking when she had to leave for her university studies on Alderaan. But despite ignoring her HoloNet calls and destroying her messages unread, she kept fighting for you.

You let Ina down again, when you managed to get kicked out of the program for a while, due to your 'nocturnal carousing' and partying. As if having fun once in a while would have stopped you from being brilliant.

The divorce of your parents made things even worse. The fact that you were not eighteen yet, helped your mother get custody over you.

Being stuck in the Outer Rim again, on provincial Lexrul of all places, made you re-discover your love for music. With your rough, sexy voice and your guitar skills you had no problem to gather some people to form a band: 'Lost River'. Good can come from bad.

It was the Naboo crisis that brought clarity back to your life and, in honour of Ina’s home planet, you joined the army which earned you the credits back to finish your exams on Brentaal.

From there it was a piece of cake, really. You rose to the fore in the Republic Corps of Engineers, as deserved. You dreams had finally come true for you. You were able to supervise large on-world projects. And then, finally, even deep space constructions.

There is no woman in your life, because you have had enough stupid chicks hanging around since your time as a lead singer. You are married to your work. And you are very much in love with 'Project Celestial Power', a true beauty.

The only female influence that you allow into your life is Ina. She is a sort of older sister for you. She’s the only other person you would lie and even kill for. All to make her safe and protected.

That the Emperor assigned you as her protector is an honour. It will certainly propel you right to the top of the Imperial food chain. You might get the main price: full control over 'Project Celestial Power'. Tarkin will not like that, but he is a _Wowser_ . Constantly, he is looking down on you. Just because he was born with a silver spoon in his mouth and you are but a working class _bloke_ , the son of biological fruit farmers.

You secretly scan Ina, while you walk right behind her down the **river bank** , holding on to the picnic basket. You do not mind carrying it for her. The **bottle of wine** is actually quite heavy. It is one of the little treasures the Emperor left behind on Scarif and somehow it feels right drinking it only with her.

Hopefully, Ina will not get as tipsy and annoying as she did during your short beach holiday. Some folk in this galaxy have too big a conscience. For some reason she feels guilty about the death of her former queen, Padmé Amidala. She thinks that it should have been her duty to talk her uncle out of his master plan: the annihilation of the Republic and the founding of the New Galactic Empire.

You tried to understand this nagging guilt of hers, but you failed. It is so illogical to be _true blue_ to the Republic. Only a stable dictatorship under the rule of her uncle can bring back peace, order and stability to everybody. And the great technological marvels the Republic was too chicken to start. Why is she not able to see that? Like your old school chum Galen she is a dreadful pacifist. Her solutions might work on her _kindie_ school, but will not for grown-ups. Violence and the very threat of it are the only chance to get people back in line.

Your eyes drill into her back like **a saber**.

Why can’t she be more open to your views on the universe? You always obliged her when you were a boy.

At least you are relieved to have escaped the farm of her fosters, the Anils. The five children they care for at present are unnerving. You already have trouble dealing with Jyn, Galen’s baby daughter. How are you supposed to survive an entire bunch of _ankle biters_?

But the worst part is Gita Anil. She is one of those women who see too much for their own good. Somehow she managed a talk with your old man, something that you have avoided for years.

Ina claps into her hands, not like the forty-one year old woman that she is, but like a **dear little girl**. “Look, Orson!”

And you do her the favour and gaze out to the crystal-clear waters of Lake Sah’ot.

“Beautiful, isn’t it?” she beams.

It would be a good place for a hydro-dam. Beautiful indeed. She’s a great spotter.

Smiling, you set down the picnic basket and unroll the going-with-it blanket that you had jammed under your left arm. You sink down and pat on the ground next to you, hoping that she will stop dancing around and join you.

Panting and rather unceremoniously, Ina clonks down on the blanket.

Forgotten are all your earlier fights and discussions: on Lothal, on Scarif and on Jedha.

She was always bad at being resentful. Her heart is as big as an ocean, containing so much love. Even for low-lives such as Boba Fett, Prince Xizor and the surviving Jedi traitors.

You uncork the wine bottle, pull her a glass that you take out of the picnic basket.

Ina scuttles a bit away from you, but only to lean against a **willow** tree. The sound that escapes her throat reminds you of that dreadful Loth-cat she now owns as a pet. But coming from her such a moan sounds cute, endearing.

“Sing me a song, Orson!” she begs.

You want to argue against that, but then you finish your own wine glass and find yourself fulfilling one of her wishes again.

Thinking hard on what to sing, your mind involuntarily wanders back to Lyra, Galen’s wife. She’s been an annoying speed bump in working with him.

Smiling, you start singing an old ballad.

_“Down in the Willow garden_  
_Where me and my love did meet_  
_As we sat a-courtin’_  
_My love fell off to sleep_  
_I had a bottle of Burgundy wine_  
_My love she did not know_  
_So I poisoned that dear little girl_  
_On the banks below_

_I drew a saber through her_  
_It was a bloody knife_  
_I threw her in the river_  
_Which was a dreadful sign_

_My father often told me_  
_That money would set me free_  
_If I would murder that dear little girl_  
_Whose name was Rose Connolly_

_My father sits at his cabin door_  
_Wiping his tear-dimmed eyes_  
_For his only son soon shall walk_  
_To yonder scaffold high_  
_My race is run, beneath the sun_  
_The scaffold now waits for me_  
_For I did murder that dear little girl_  
_Whose name was Rose Connolly”_

When the song dies on your lips, Ina raises an eyebrow. “A murder ballad?” she wonders.

Suddenly, you wish you had chosen something more cheerful. Something that fits better with the blue, careless sky above you. It feels as if you summoned something old and forbidden. Something you did not want to share with others. That part of you is not for Ina.

Before you can say anything she twitches her nose. “There is no need to murder me for my foster mom’s apple crumble, Orson Callan Krennic.” She laughs and her green-gray eyes are alight with glee. “I am willing to share with you.”

You are relieved to hear that.

With amorous rapture you watch her cutting the tart.

Ina is an unusual person, but then again she had the most unusual upbringing by her uncle. No wonder that she ended up in Gita Anil’s care at some point.

All in all you can be glad that you have her back after all these years of self-chosen radio silence. In order to keep her around and happy like today, you need to work hard. On your temper, on your trust issues. But it will be worthwhile.

 

**Translation from the Chandrilan rural dialect into Basic:**   
_Wowser =_ a person who seeks to deprive others of behaviour deemed to be immoral or “ _sinful”_  
_bloke = man; fellow; guy_  
_true blue = loyal or faithful; staunch_  
_kindie = kindergarten_  
_ankle biters = a toddler_

**Author's Note:**

> Sources:
> 
> The song “Down in the willow garden”, the version of Loreena McKennitt
> 
> A bow to Ben Mendelsohn for staring in the movie “Lost River”
> 
> Wookieepedia – The Star Wars Wiki


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